


I am no one

by Nirvs (nirvanad)



Series: Hanging out with masterminds [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dubious Morality, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Gen, Graphic Depictions Of Nonsense, I don't have the faintest idea of how this will end, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of Angst, Mixed feelings, Mycroft is a Softie, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, aftermath of that ILY, but is a different one, but not the thing itself, we cleary didn't have enough of Jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirvanad/pseuds/Nirvs
Summary: Molly deal with the fallout of tfp, she isn't a predictable one, is she?On this story she sings the ‘fuck you all’ and run away with Jim Moriarty who is alive and kicking.





	1. Priorities first

**Author's Note:**

> I read a lot of post-tfp fic but I think lot of work can still be done.  
> This is not a fix-it and crazy stuff may happen, don't say I didn't warn you.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mycroft from the beginning was inspired actually in one scene of Loki, that you can contemplate in here  Loki image   
> Mycroft has his dose from mischief.

In Sherrinford, a task force come to rescue Mycroft from Eurus old cell. It's one single agent. Mycroft is being impatient for hours now he is messy in the floor one hand in knee hair all over, shrunken shirt rolled to the forearm. _Incompetent agent, extrovert, alcoholic, too young. American relatives, journalist lover. Wanna get pregnant, loses sense of smell last year. No excuses to not bring equipment to open this damn door._

 _“At_ last but not at least, where are the keys, or are you trained to pick a half million bucks lock?” to that the agent stopped in her heels and blushed. _What she?_ And she lowered her head, a sign of respect and humility _and compassion?_ She came through the glass to what Mycroft jaw dropped and he get back to normal before she looked to him again. She helped him to get up and offered a bottle of water.

“Your sister was found in Musgrave's hall sir. Anthea is there and the situation is under control. Take your time.”

Agent Dias wasn't send to him like a rabbit send to a caged ravenous lion. He breathed relieved by the others security and drunk the water. _She must have elevated emotional intelligence, like Molly, to manage a situation like that so elegantly._

 _It is over. Everyone would know what I’ve done._ Mycroft began to move. He was almost racing through the corridor. “I need a bug searcher and a bomb squad team send to Dr Hooper’s house immediately.” Agent Dias was typing on her phone the orders. Besides unusual boss attire one more day at office.

Mycroft has his phone on ear and was kinda pleading to himself “Pick the bloody phone Molly”. The low, private voice made Dias startled. She listens the conversation because was impossible not to pay attention to the most gelid man she ever knew being emotional. He stopped and support his weight in the wall.

“Molly, sorry the inconvenient time.” 3:37 am he looked to the hour.

“Sorry about too many things, my dear.”

“Mycroft you're not sounding like yourself, are you ok? Is Sherlock ok? Oh my God, something happened.”

“Yes, Molly. Something indeed happened. Something terrible. If in others conditions, the protocols would force me to have this conversation in person or through one of my agents. I'm compelled to give you awareness of this matter sooner the better, for your sakes as which in respect of what you are to my family.”

“You're frightening me Mycroft. Spill it out!” He heard Molly hold a breath, so he has the mercy to give just one strike.

“I guarded, until this day, an ill minded sister in a facility. She is way clever and evil that me or Sherlock. Yesterday she locked me, John and Sherlock in her own prison that she made her own. Eurus tortured us in various ways killing several people. By now everyone is safe. Previously she threaded your life with bombs that would be released if you didn't say a code word. Breath Molly, please.” What came out from Molly was more like a sob.

“Are you sure everyone's ok now?”

“Affirmative, Anthea and Lestrade are with they in the moment.” He made a pause.

“I think that you saw everything, didn't you Mycroft? Oh God, this is too much.” to which he didn't respond, her awareness was the matter in hand.

“I need you to focus Dr. Hooper. There are cameras in your house. You can check. If you stay in your balcony and look up towards your living room you must see one of them.”

“It's true! There's bombs here too? I'll get out!”

“There's no need Molly, in 23 minutes two teams I'll arrive to check on you. Although I don't believe Eurus actually planted any bombs there.” His certainty seemed to calm Molly.

“Why, Mycroft? She bombed Baker Street, and killed several people, so do you know why didn't she spare me the humiliation, and kill me?”

“Indeed, Molly dearest. She couldn’t kill you for selfish reasons, I believe.” Molly started to cry and Mycroft waited.

“Sorry for taking your time Mycroft you should be very tired, and with your hands full.”

“No bother, priorities first. May I provide a stay and extraction while my people reach you? You can pick any hotel you’d like.”

“Duchally would be great, Mycroft thank you.”

“Scotland?”

“I was calling an Uber so you don’t have to care for the extraction. My suitcase is already closed.” His emotions were quite inflamed. He took a while to process.

“You said that I mean something to the Holmes, it looks like that I am alive because I already mean something to your sister- God. I don’t even know her name.”

“Her name is Eurus.” Molly chuckles a little.

“Your mother is a mathematician, sure she developed an algorithm, you still have the most beautiful name.”

“Oh, I have? You guessed right, Mummy would be delighted! Someone finally catch that.”

“As I said, I think I can’t take it anymore Mycroft. I can’t be just a paw in the Holmes schemes. I have to think. I would be out for a fortnight.”

“Molly I am really sorry. I should know better. I am her keeper. I couldn’t see the threat coming.” Mycroft pass a hand through his hair and look back the corridor, to the old Eurus’ cell. “I was unable to see plenty of things.”

“You’re too kind Mycroft, in your own way. I am sure that you did your best. It’s your family after all. You always do everything in your power for them.”

“Maybe just me wasn’t enough, one minute Molly.” Mycroft gestures to agent Dias. “Can you please, catch my spare jacket and coat? We’re going to Scotland Yard, to check my sister”. When Dias leaved he resumed.

“I’ve seen him on his worst before Molly.”

“Don’t- No Mycroft, I wouldn’t listen, you know he played with me for years.” She is crying again and her voice became shallow, almost inaudible “ _years…”_

“I never would be able to change your mind. You remember, you were there too, during Lazarus, that was quite bad too. Not the bad, drugs heart attack and near death experiences, but his own identity was lost.”

“I do remember Mycroft, one of the most difficult days of my life.”

“And today was his.” Mycroft let the words sink, to continue. “He knows you are alive, but I never ever seen him loses control like today because he thinks that he lost you.”

“He never had me Mycroft.”

“Well maybe it was that then.” Molly snorted and signed, they were too tired to have this conversation.

“My Uber came, thank you Mycroft.”

“Enjoy your vacation, my dearest.”

Molly didn’t sleep but her body would have to wait, she fetched her suitcase and entered the car.

“I changed my mind, could you let me in Scotland Yard please? There’s someone there that I want to have a little chat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES!!! An encounter between Eurus and Molly, I am doing that.  
> I have half written that it wouldn't be long.  
> It will have maybe four caps, maybe a little more, once Mr Sex arrive, he is kite unpredictable.  
> Besides from that first fic here, not english native, comments would be appreciated etc.


	2. Invisible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Eurus had a proper meeting while all the baker street boys recover from Sherrinford Battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost cut this whole chapter because add little to my plot. At least, I decided against and use it to lay all my adoration to the Molly Hooper character. I have a view, to people an fiction, tending to analyze then for what they could be, not only by what they appear or by their behavior. You will see.  
> I blame no one by my mistakes, you would be very kind if you comment they. I am not a native English speaker, and I do need a beta, top of all I am dyslexic so I commit the worsts mistakes and I regret none of then.

Sherlock is entering the Memorial hospital at five afternoon in his coat and holding a small package. His hands are bandaged but he manages to catch this call.

“Better brother?”

“Sherlock, a pleasure to see your recovery.”

“World wouldn't stop because I had a family war yesterday, I am picking John home, his home as you know.” By the reception he takes advantage of a distracted nurse to access the number of John room in 2 clicks on the computer.

“I am calling to give you the report on Molly sakes.” the detective slows his pace towards the lift.

“Something happened or you would not call.”

“She is in Scotland by now, sorry brother.” Sherlock stops, waiting for the lift with his head down.

“I assume there wasn’t any threats to her life in her flat?”

“Sherlock, there are pressing matters we must discuss.”

“She is safe. It is all that matters. Thank you Mycroft.” Alarmed by the unusual soft words, Mycroft startles in his large mahogany office at home. He is impeccable in his navy dressing gown but he look alarmed to a pitch black box. The afternoon light hit all the wood and give a golden light to the room. The simple box looks handmade varnish finish, with a simple black ball as a holder.

“Sherlock wait, we found something, _he hang up_.” Mycroft let the phone in the table to rub both temples. “I eliminated the impossible, you are the truth.” He make another call. Looking to the black box intently, he demands “Two teams, search and extract Dr Hooper, immediately.”

.

(...)

To be 4:33 in the morning Scotland Yard seemed pretty busy. But the awkward thing was the quietude. The staff receives external help that worked noiseless. Two of these agents were at the ward’s door. A nice woman by hers  thirties approaches them.

"I am Dr Louise Davies, please, could you help me to set up the EEG? Your boss want the results quickly.” the psychiatrist with a heavy machine in a hospital like case was the only with permission to enter the room. The shorter agent nod and silently put the machine in place, in the closer corner of the room.

When the custodied woman saw the other one enter the room, the agents testified the only response in the last hour, she widened her eyes and have a slight contented smile. The doctor repeated her announcement holding a file of just one page "Good morning, Eurus Holmes, I'm Dr Louise Davies, we I'll have to do an EEG and this is a portable version of the machine.” the doctor said in kind manners.

The doctor gestured for the agents to leave the room, the shorter one explained.

"This is a dangerous prisoner isn't allowed to her be unguarded" The doctor seemed outraged.

"I've been working for several years making reports for the most dangerous people of Britain, I can handle her."

"This isn't negotiable, sorry Dr Davies."

"Well, my professional ethics and the confidentiality of my patient certainly isn't either" with that the short angry doctor was already packing up. "When he arrive, tell your boss never contact me again in odd hours" to the mention of the boss the men cracked. The skilled mental professional take care to calm their concerns.

"I have experience, believe me. It's like I've known her hole family, trust me. You will have your report" the two man nodded to each other and left the room.

Once alone doctor and patient were free to talk.

"You deal with Sherlock. You seduced Jim. They didn't have a chance”

  
(...)

 

John left the toilet ready to leave the hospital and see his daughter. Sherlock was looking to the nurse’s aisle, probably deducing all they.

“This is nonsense John, I will never understand. What you medical professionals intend therapeutically by observation time? Shouldn't the patients rest and heal better in the comfort of their homes cared by their relatives?”

“Well I am quite happy in be sedated to they make all sorts of exams they may have here, thank you very much. If you spoil the magic to you and made a scene to leave earlier, let me have some fun ugh? I still have some checkboxes to mark on safe narcotics experiences. Rosie?”

“Fetid when I left. The others babies will never be a match for her.” John chuckles and grab the bag that Sherlock     brought to him, the both man leave.

“So, what do you plan to do?”

“Well, Baker Street is a priority. I will have to suspend the cases until then. We can’t receive clients in your home. We must protect Rosie.”

“About that Sherlock, I was thinking in get back to Baker Street with Rosie. You know, take advantage on reconstruction and make some changes in the upper room to her. She would have the same protection Mrs. Hudson have.”

“You are on fire John. I would suggest that in a fortnight. The well must have waked something in you.” They enter the lift and John     support his head at the mirror, the other man seemed excited. “Oh, that would be brilliant John. Just the two of us against the rest of the world. Like the old times.”

“But not quite the same, isn’t? What will you do about Eurus?”

“You know what.”

“No Sherlock, I don’t” Just like the old times indeed, John is already angry, they had that same kind of conversation too many times.

“What do you mean, is obvious.”

“What you will do about your psychopath secret sister who tortured us and killed several people yesterday and destroyed your home isn’t obvious to me, no Sherlock.” The doors open “I will have a coffee.”  they turn left instead of leave the building.

“You didn’t have coffee in two days and made internship here for a while, the coffee here is heinous, but will do.” John raises his eyebrows waiting for response and his friend obliges.

“First thing is: the secret must end, once my parents know she is alive we will care for her. She is a Holmes, after all.” they arrive the machine and John picks his coffee.

“Yeah, that will work. I don’t see how but several Holmes together definitely will care for her, she is lucky to have you.” John blows his cup one moment.

“And about Molly?” Sherlock let all the air of his lungs out while his eyebrows go to the hair line. His shorter friend raise his on eyebrows mocking a little.

“Not obvious, ugh?”

 

(...)

"Pleased to meet you too Eurus. Sorry, but we do have to make this exam."

While Molly put the pulse sensor on her finger and was grabbing the electrodes for the head Eurus was rambling "Louise Margaret Davies, 37 she envies you, used her beauty to gain her internship and her own merit didn't take her far. She still fake reports to facilitate convictions and gained prestige by that. She bullied you for your social choices, probably with gossip. Rumours about a sexual assault. She will do whatever you want after you free her from face a real demon, not one she made up." Molly turned to her, the ponytail swishing front.

“Twitter?”

“LinkedIn.”

"Stop Eurus, just stop. We've already began with the wrong foot. And I don't hate you, ok?"

"Pity, you should."

"I will put these” Molly show her the electrodes of the head.

"Oh please, be my guest. I know the procedure." Despite deal with the dead, Molly had skilled hands. Eurus closed her eyes while 10 plugs where put in her scalp. Even the feather touch to straight her hair a little after all was set up produced goosebumps in her skin.

"You are cold".

"Well when your brother held you alone for--" her phrase was cut, Molly was taking her cardigan and putting in Eurus arms. She couldn't properly dress her because she had a especial cuff that locked her wrists and ankles in a hook by the floor. However Molly closed the firsts buttons to keep it in place.

"Here it is. I'm afraid they will take it from you when they took the cuffs. I know the questioning and your extraction must be excruciating. I will warn your brother that you are sensible to cold, much more than the two of them."

"I planned today for so long, Molly. I never could have made him raw. You did. All the emotion I never see. You masters." The doctor was positioning herself on the computer. It was a clear Holmes trait the way to lead a conversation.

"I didn't came here to talk about Sherlock."

"Even John now knows-"

"Let's see your brain working shall we? 5 minutes of rest scan, 2 minutes oxygenation. The same old combo." Molly looked to her watch, talking imperative "test starting, now."

Dr. Hooper watched for a while the regular peaks on the ECC forming, she already have saw the same lines in the Sherlock's tests. They were the same for the hole humanity. Didn't meant all the work their head minds could held, the cage and curse they were sometimes.

_‘Mycroft was desolated. All the three of then are fine now. Nevertheless he was always the man to do the necessary choice not the loving one, when the decisions were about his siblings, well, they kill him, a little.’_

Eurus tilted her head just like her brother, but Molly knew she can’t read thoughts. _“The colour indeed suits her. What a beautiful eyes, like Sherlock's. Her completion is peachier, tough. She must be hating this test. How many years she have stayed locked? Something terrible must be happened too soon to Sherlock not to mention her. Omg he lied to us all about that? No I think not.’_

Eurus started to breath rapidly in and out, startling Molly who looked again to the watch. _‘Exactly 5 minutes, she must be a musician too to count time so accurately. She have domain over the prison she was locked, the same prison commanded by Mycroft. Oh two minutes almost over’_ Molly held her forearm high to access time and the flustered face of her patient.

"You can say the results, if you'd like" it was like say instructions to Sherlock in the lab. Eurus seemed interested and recited flatly "Normal records, with no casualties in rest or activity samples. Which means the lack of evidence to support of lateral epileptic episode. No psychosis episode. My charges are still mine, today at least."  Molly copied all right to the report.

The superiority of a Holmes in first hand. Molly came here to say one thing, to share an idea, to help her.

"I know what you have to do to have your family back Eurus, but it won't be free. I will say it one time what you have to do."

 

(...)

 

In the back of a cab, John is being very patient to his friend.

“Of course she want to stay with you Sherlock, she is the easier person I ever know. Glad of all people you picked the simplest.” Sherlock laughs with his head bent back. John blinks a little, “What Sherlock? If you think I put an assassin and a cinnamon roll in my blog and make a quiz, to people match us, what do you think it would be the result?”

“You know I’ve always rejoice myself for seeing what others don’t right? At first I could deduce Molly Hooper, but after I get back from the deads, I simply wasn’t able anymore.”

“Get that bad back then? Gosh I am a fucking blind moron.”

“Yes, what? No, John, listen to me. I didn’t get ‘that bad’ she got that good.”

“I didn’t understand, Sherlock what do you mean?”

“I didn’t understand too for a while. I was like a puzzle to me. Maybe that was how had began. Let me tell you a story, to enlighten things.” Sherlock held his fingers together in touching the tip of his chin.

“To the world Molly Hooper is the masterpiece of normalcy and boredom. She is often underestimated by not only the ordinary like you. That was even the great fail of Moriarty. You see John she isn’t shallow or dull. It is a developed skill. Molly is _invisible_.” John was the bored one by now, of course in love Sherlock would be as posher as ever.

“So two weeks before your wedding, did you know Molly was pregnant?” That startled John.

“Sorry mate, I didn’t. I am not close to her as Mary was. Did she told you so soon then? Before she lost it, I mean.”

“No, obviously I deduced. But the matter was delicate so when she had a particularly good day I laid all my evidence to her. Changes in her recent diet, in the products she used for hair and skin.  Moods’ oscillation increased, and she could predict  results of a pancreas just by its smell. On top of all that she had chosen her larger flats for a week, in same way the new blouses indicated her swollen breasts.”  John was laughing since the word diet, with a hand covering his eyes.

“And I missed that lap in the face, must have been a sight.”

“Nope, I was wrong. She was laughing even harder than you now. But of course my deductions were right. And _that_ is the point. Molly was on IUD. She confessed to me that she had being producing all that evidence for me as a prank.”

“What? She did that?”

“Several times indeed. Always spotless. Once I thought she was dating an filth American lobbyist by the contents of her bag.” John seemed worried, that was not just an infatuated boy, that was Sherlock in awe for the love of his life.

“That's not possible. She can trick you? YOU?”

“Think of that John, she work collecting evidence 40 hours per week, work along me for years, even Mycroft trust her best over professionals that have twice her experience. One thing that Molly Hooper is not, is simple.”

 

(...)

 

"My silence, for having my family back. I'm not a mermaid you know?" Eurus is looking away from Molly. Analysing all the possibilities. Molly is packing up the equipment.

"Your older brother would do anything to protect your family even from you, you know that already. But didn't you ever thought that he would make anything _for_ you too? If you weren't a threat of endless evil, mind control by supernatural powers on your voice, he would do _anything_ to have you better, even allowing closer relations with they. They would do anything for you. Believe me Eurus."

"Isn't really a problem if I keep this?” Eurus is shrugging to point the teal cardi.

"You deduced I hated, plus it really suits you, besides you already know that the most convincing vendor in the world made me buy this and my whole new wardrobe."

"You're welcome. Send Jim my love" the jaw of Molly drops.

"How can you know where I'm coming?"

"Oh I did not, thank you for telling me sis. " Molly chunks to that.

"Catch you later, Eurus.”

"It wasn't you, actually. Jim gave me the hint that this was coming. You know you can have Sherlock anytime.”  Molly sighed annoyed and tired, the same way earlier yesterday on the phone. She shook her head slowly in warning.

"Oh Eurus, don't waist your time trying to make me hate you. It doesn't work with me. Ask any of your brothers." Molly lift a hand to knock the door.

"WAIT" the both woman look each other, Molly is with a dimpled smile, patient, while Eurus blinks covering every corner of the room with her eyes. She purses and tighten her lips. Wet then. She looks shy, unsure like a teenage. The words never pronounced came out robotic, like they were read in an unknown language.

"Thank. You?"

They smile and Molly give her a kiss in the cheek and then knocks the door to the agents.

 

On the coffee machine a tall posh woman in a pastel blazer comes.

"I have a confession, Molly, that time in uni I-"

"'Only freaks pick Pathology...' Don't mind. I always knew. Here, your report." Molly Hooper leaves Scotland Yard invisible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if London has a Memorial Hospital, I am too lazy/tired to care or check. Sorry.  
> Next chapter they all will discover where Molly is, but you already new, ho ho ho.


	3. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft share the news off Molly disappearance.  
> Jim and Seb have a domestic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish we had more Molly here, but I promise I'll compensate  
> Have fun

Regardless the pressing matters Mycroft needed to settle his mind. He just obliged in one single night and blamed himself for the outcome. As a punishment here he was, at Dr. Watson doorstep unprepared to give the news.

“Mycroft! Common in it’s open!” He let himself in while as warmly received by the landowner.

“Sherlock! Are you crazy? This door is open since yesterday? You can’t do things as Baker Street! Rosie is here, your idiot!”

 _‘Ah, everything is the right place, this both at least’_ meanwhile bad news wasn’t given he could somewhat placate the concerns of a father. “John, I can assure your house is Baker Street in regards of security, plus the convenience of the unknown location by media, clients and enemies.” the blond man nods his thank you to Mycroft but continues agitated with the little one in his hip. Mycroft leaves his umbrella and folder by the couch and raise his arms.

“May I?’ John’s jaw dropped in incredulity and Sherlock enters the room with brand new pyjamas.

  
“You do must John. Good nannie, needy baby.” The lazy detective pointed to both and then waves to his own body, reiterating “Oh, possibly sister too.” John shook his head trying not to imagine their childhood, and failing, again. But the evidence itself was strong, so he handles Rosie Watson. He crossed his arms to watch smiling the Holmes version of ‘isn’t she a lovely thing! she had her mummy eyes, and hair, poor thing’.

“Clean, four hours sleep deficit, hungry, eleven pounds, three teeth, no allergies or reflux. Perfect state of intestinal function, hence the balanced diet, circadian rhythm almost settled despite of the turmoil of houses and the number of nannies cumulated. A signal of elevated intellect and resilience. Must have seventeen words in her lexical. Three times above average specimen. It is a pleasure my lady.”

“Wrong, sixteen Mycroft. Forgiven, whereas she forgot the first learned.” John made his grieving face and the iceman ups his nose “Indeed”.

“Now, business, shall we? Must be something brilliant, at least an eight to pay your audacity and your kindness to Rosie.”

“Business? No.” The sarcasm was too good to lose, “Good thing that I have the best human shield ever made, be so kind and open my folder brother.” The others go to the kitchen fetch Rosie’s lunch, Mycroft turned his head at exact same moment he heard the leader being open, in that fraction he cold contemplates his little brother’s jaw fall. He will need his mind palace to process all the data and come to the right conclusion to the photo of Molly’s flat, plus to emotional context.

“We got seven minutes and a half John.” the father stand a cam of baby food which the other man made a sneer. “If you want give her a kidney malfunction at forty, please, do go on. Give me one cold pear of yours and her cutlery. Miss Watson, you will be delighted.”  
  
John couldn’t believe in his own eyes, looked like a vex. After one spoon of pear, promptly swallowed, his little traitor opens her mouth wide to another one. No fuss, no yelling, no spit the food in Mycroft’s suit. The cherry on top was that the prat was good to even refuse the bib, they both immaculate. In the middle of her meal, Sherlock was the one to yell from the hall, “WHERE IS SHE?” Rosie startled but didn’t cried, since her nanny was unstoppable.

“Like I said, this isn’t business. I wish it was. Family is endless complexier.” Why his best friend came to the kitchen pacing, shallow breaths, murmuring to himself. He didn’t know, but the word family terrified John.

“Eurus? Already?” Mycroft just shook his read, “Ms. Hudson?” another negative, “your mum gets back to MI5?”.

“You should not proffer that information aloud ever again Doctor.” Rosie started to cry now and Mycroft stand and put her in his shoulder offering a perfect fit to her cuddles and take her nap. She rests her nose in his neck and played with the hair of his nape.

“You're a boaster. How do you KNEW her mother did that?” Mycroft smiled

“Elementary, she told me, we are friends.” The other baby craves for attention.

“JOHN! IT’S MOLLY!”

“Wait. What? Molly? What happened mate?” his friend looked like crazy waving the folder to the air, almost hitting every furniture, and kind of dancing in the process though.

“Excellent luster, clean impeccable surface, green/blue subtle overtones, body color of a stunning black, thirteen millimeters of scandal passed hand in hand trough intrigue and passion until be stolen and brought back now.” Sherlock opens the folder faced to John that frowns to the sight of Molly's hall: big couch, pictures framed and nearly arranged on the wall. And a small stand table to held randomly decorating items. Normal, banal even.

“I don't understand, wha-” the detective raises a finger high to drop it dramatically by the small black box in the table, that one with the hound handle.

“May I present you, The Black Pearl of the Borgias. Ridden in plain sight. Specifically, to my sight.”

“Holy crap!”

“Quite the opposite John.”

“Of course the item in question is already receiving attention, and specialists have said that didn't have been cared showing that Molly didn't knew the true nature of what was in her hands.” Mycroft explained while still pacing with Rosie in his arms, Sherlock looks lost muffling his hair wild. John was still processing.

“The jewel wasn't stolen back then, when Moriarty was still alive?” The doctor asked to Sherlock complements his words.

“And came to her house only last year, yes.”

“This doesn't make any sense. Molly isn't a thief. The thing didn't drop in her house alone, or by accident...” Mycroft was the one to complete now.

“But still, there you have. A famous jewel, Moriarty himself have made known he wanted, stolen and put in her house, conveniently in a time that I can track every step of her life. Freeing her of any burden. A conundrum, but a very easy one, once you looked to the whole. Make the honors to conclude for me, brother” Mycroft turned to the rooms to put Rosie in her bedroom, a kindness because Sherlock was defeated head down hands in his hips. He didn't seem to want to explain that deduction.

“What it means John, is that Moriarty plan was always to give Molly the Pearl, as a proof of secret love. Which is the meaning of the damned stone.” His best find stopped and cleaned his forehead, made a pause. John waited, wasn't common that Sherlock have a well-paced explanation, but this conclusion wasn't about a case or a game. It was Molly.

“The very fact that she received the box is Moriarty's proof of life. The analyses must show even his fingerprints, it is handmade. By the bastard itself.” He ended throwing the folder in the table which slide and flew, all the leafs spreading.

“Moriarty is dead, Sherlock. You said countless if times.”

“I was wrong John, and the evidence for my mistake was laughing at me everything time I entered her flat. WHAT MORE?” Mycroft just joined they again, alone. And John was panicking too.

“Oh my God. It has more. Or you wouldn't be here in person. Or you wouldn't be holding Rosie till now.”

“I am outraged. The bond me and Miss Watson share is authentic.” John straight his back speaks looking right to the man’s eyes.

“You may have her hand until a worthier man claim her.”

“It’s an honor and very wise of you John.” Sherlock interrupts.

“Cut the shit, Mycroft. Where. Is. SHE?”

“Despite of her kind manners, may we please not wake up my fiancée?” Mycroft said gesturing to the living room and the three of they sit.

“You already knew all of that when you called me yesterday, Mycroft. So why, just today you have bad news?”

“Yesterday, Molly herself send me a selfie at the Duchally Country Estate and to that I made my piece with her wellbeing. It just snapped me when I got the proof of Moriarty’s life in my hands, that Duchally’s was an oasis of communication in miles whether in connection or in air traffic. Is in great dread that came to say that her extraction mission failed. Her luggage and phone was in the place, no witnesses, no evidence.”

  
“This doesn’t make any sense, the place must be full of tourists this time of the year, why any of then saw her being kidnapped?”  
“You are right John,” said Sherlock solemnly “because she wasn’t kidnapped. Molly was away in free will, specifically with the intent to meet her ex-boyfriend, and just like Mary she doesn’t want to be found.” Mycroft lifts one side of his lips and John picks up.

  
“We will have none of that.”

  
“Oh no John, we certainly won’t.”

  
  
(...)

  
It is a warm afternoon, but a cool breeze lifts the light curtains of the bedroom. Somewhere in the scuffed sheets lays the unexpected guest. She seems not to rest in her sleep. She twists her eyes, kicks the sheets and by the way she is now is like she never had to sleep with her own limbs. The result must be at least a numb arm. Sebastian is leaning by blue door frame with his arms crossed and a severe expression. He brought her here. Didn’t mean he like it.

“Any problems to get her out?”

“No, as predicted the place is so random to her that she was unwatched.” Jim is seated in the window bench; he is looking intently to the direction of the nest of hair.

“Good.”

“They think it is a kidnapping.”

“Let they.”

Seb needed to analyze Jim, he is irritated by the very need Itself. The man was sitting in the window bench, his legs wide apart, elbow on knee, scratching his chin. ‘Good. Think, you have to put your good head to think, to get ourselves out of this problem.’ Jim playing with his tongue inside of his mouth, pursing his lips, eyes looking glass made when he was planning cruelty like that. Pitch black eyes like the hole in his heart.

“Seb…”

“Yes Sir.”

“Fetch one of those kittens to her for me please?” Sebastian uncrossed his arms.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh! And a BIG red ribbon, if you’d be so kind.” Seb was facepalming now which seems to give even more ideas to boss.

“What? Not good yet? Ok Seb. You were always the romantic one. Bring me TWO” Seb as pulling his eyelids down and rolling his eyes by the same time. “Two ribbons, and ask for a baby cougar to that Jespersen one. Do not give him a discount. Pity, I will be lot prettier that the cat though. Change my mind! Leave the kitty, I will use just the ribbon.”

“No.” A smile rushed over Jim’s face to switch to a curious face. Jim stand up, put the right hand in his pocket and the left to his lips.

“It was an order, obey.” Seb came from Scotland today, he spent this day with this damn girl he will take no shit.

“I am not your employee anymore, leave the orders to bed. Come!” Seb was leaving for the terrace. It was unusual to him lose his temper, Jim was the sanguine one. His was the sniper, the maddening calm, that could wait hours in a position, years to find James Moriarty vulnerable to accept him. Seb was pacing running his fingers through his hair, he couldn’t think straight. ‘How can someone save this man? Just her got that.’

“Oh Seb I am so flattered! You never were jealous. So Lovely. Now now. You brought her here, what did you think will happen?” Seb roughly pinned him to one wood pillar of the terrace with his upper arm, which just made the other man smile, so pushed him again, stronger, curling his upper arm against the throat causing discomfort and demanding to be heard.

“Now, do listen to me, your stormy man. You can’t handle her. You couldn’t before, and you certainly cannot now.”

“Your misery is very touching, honey. If you do are so afraid you should have wipe her out back then.” Jim was released and moved his head a little too easy his throat. He also flexed his shoulders and straight his shirt. _‘Don’t move like that, I wanna be angry and I will.’_

“Tell me J, when we will go back to London, umm?” the man just smooths the back of his neck and made a sneer. “You see? It’s her! I bloody knew it!” Seb was pretty loudly to him now. Not a fraction of the other man laughing when reading the right obituary.

“Well, we aren’t bored without that piece of the planet.” The tall man was now facing the ocean talking to himself full of sarcasm.

“Sherlock Holmes? Boring. The Met? easy. The bloody British Government either...” The sniper was flexing his hands, just the edge of getting physical.

“She isn’t he for me. I’m just the friend who shelter her.”

“She scares the hell out of me.”

“Oh please, you are just turned on. You don’t even know the way of drama. Do you want lessons?” Jim pulled Seb by the nape until their foreheads touched. The sniper forced his come down controlling his breathes. When he talked again was deliberately, slowly his eyes closed and full of sorrow.

“She gave me you in a black dead bag. Blood all over you. Drugged. But thank God, alive. Of course I gave her a way to visit you.”

“Well. If this doesn’t deserve a threesome, nothing does.” Sebastian snaps his eyes open.

“Ok then. Do you want that? Go for it. Make yourself a favor, hire her, and do keep us at least one ocean apart.”

“Oh common, you should be besties!” Jim, said cheerly. He was enjoying this waay too much. “My Seby and Molly an end to end death work, oh I think I just made your catchphrase!” he growled.

“She can pick my leftovers anytime…” Jim faked outrage, with a hand in his heart.

“Oi! You just said you pick that one” the prat was waving to his own body, but Sebastian Moran was resilient.

“Do you know how she was able to win that one? In Reichemback? She played both sides. But you already know that, but do you ever wondered why? Ugh?” This got Moriarty’s attention, he never was able to repeat her feat with any of his clients, and it would be rather useful. He straightened his back and just listened.

“She did it because she is no one. She cared for life and she saved lives, but she wouldn’t pick either side. What for? She is no one to you. She is one to Sherlock. She. Is. No one.” Jim blinked at the very end, shook his head. He was calmer. Sebastian pulls him by the waist.

“Seb, thank you.”

“You’re welcome sir” he lean in the shorter man to kiss him. Just a peck. They were good again. Would take more than a girl from Sherlock’s web to shake they.

“No, Seb I truly mean it. You are a genius. I know what to do know.” Jim waited Seb to flex his arm, grab and unlock his glock to finish his thought, with an adorable smile and a slow, soft voice. “I will marry her.”

Seb locked the gun, throws his arms up and turned in one move, he would not bear to testify roncon “OUTING”.

Jim was looking to the sea and before he could hear the front door he asked.

“Are you taking Eleanor with you?”

“YOU CAN BET ON IT!” Jim looked out the door where he could see his man, tall, enraged, with a rectangular case on his back and helmet on hand.

Jim couldn’t resist it and shouts it back “WHERE?” without turn to him, the other man just points the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was very fun to write this one. I am playing with different ideas like, John and Mycroft becoming friends after TFP, and I never see a fic where Sebastian disliked Molly, so I made it what I did.  
> You would pay me a great service if you say if work or its OOC.


	4. To the sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mostly follows the AU Molly runs to the sunset with her criminal boyfriend and consequences be damned.  
> The game is on for the baker street boys once again.  
> Contains:  
> \- A date,  
> \- Japanese,  
> \- And especial guest our BAMF not your housekeeper
> 
> have fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally figured out how this is gonna end. You must know that this was all for the internal conflict, boring thing. But I tried to play with unexplored ideas for me and for the fandom. Its being fun.

 

It's been a couple days so his patients were rather needy of John’s attention. Besides Molly’s case was a nine, and a nine required no less than massive data collection. This case was different in such a manner that Mycroft himself offered to initiate with Sherlock. In a normal day, John didn’t knew what expect to find back home when Sherlock was in a case, today he was terrified. A gray Golf was parked by front but no others signs of Mycroft agents. The scene he founds when entering was impossible.

The place was impeccable. Mycroft was sit by the small table in the hall, speaking Japanese while contemplating a single piece of paper held high.

“I thought you two needed all the data on the web about Molly disappearance. What happened?”

“When Sherlock began to investigate the lives of the product suppliers for her dairies, I gave him my time estimate for the first usable clue.” Mycroft raises a single eyebrow and tilted his head, “then my people removed five bags of his ‘evidence’ after I review, naturally.” From the affected voice any other would think that the man didn’t give a shit about any of that.

“Where is he?”

“He left with the excuse to talk again with her acquaintance ignoring the fact that the better one, that one more attached and who knew her better...” John completed his thoughts.

“It's already him.” Mycroft tighten his lips and crossed his arms.

“Nevertheless, Molly remains the best clue we had on Moriarty direction since… well, since he stole the Queen.”

John is concerned, he approaches the table.

“Mycroft, have you ever seen him that way?” John gave a moment that wasn't needed, Mycroft take it for dramatics.

“You mean the coffin, obviously.” John nods “You only removed him from _one_ drug den, you never saw how closed he was to crime before his fascination in solving then, you never testified his experiments which formed his deduction library, you don’t know that I was the one who made his heart began to beat again once.”

John was frowning and puts his hands on hips. “So lose Molly is his worst.”

“By far.”

“Mycroft, I am worried. I called the others, he isn’t in any bolt hole.”

“He is in the furthest from you, that one only Mary, and unofficially myself, new existence of. You don’t have to worry doctor. He wouldn’t dare maculate the place with drugs.”

 

(...)

 

_♫♫Birds flying high ♫♫_

_♫♫You know how I feel ♫♫_

Molly wakes with the change of light. It’s years of work in shifts, the change of light made her aware, bud she didn’t remember if it’s dawning or sunset. She gets up just to be well reminder that she has a head, that hurts very much, right in the center of her eyes. Molly feels dizzy and sits again. Holds the bridge of her nose, trying to warm before gets up again.

_♫♫Fish in the sea ♫♫_

_♫♫You know how I feel ♫♫_

_‘This song really?’_ She opens her eyes, it’s darkening, _‘sunset then’_. She pushes a deep breath, her lungs aren’t used to clear air and sea breeze.  This house is too white. White walls, white ceiling, white sheets. All the woodwork is indigo blue tough. She knows it’s Mediterranean decor, that should be relaxing, like the jazz playing.

If only she could.

  _♫♫You know how I feel ♫♫_

 _‘You say it, common. Say it like you mean it’_ she remembers again, one more fucking time. Molly straighten her hair, pulling to her right shoulder caressing the tresses. She gets up angry marching to the lounge. There she sees him for the first time in years.

Dancing in turquoise pants. When the improvisation begins, Jim slide in his knees dramatically. At least not to her, but to the door. Molly smirks, and knocks to the door frame. He flips his head, still dancing and makes a catwalk to her right in the climax of the song.

_♫♫It's a new dawn ♫♫_

_♫♫It's a new day ♫♫_

_♫♫It's a new life ♫♫_

_♫♫For me ♫♫_

_♫♫And I'm feeling good ♫♫_

The bastard is wearing suspenders, _really suspenders?_ Plays a little with they. _Up and down and up again._ When he is three steps away from her, he makes a twirl and stop just a foot from her. Locking theirs eyes. Brown on black.

“Too gay?” this man is impossible, right what she needs.

“There’s no such a thing, and you know it.”

He pulls her by the waist too fast. She gasped and her head tilted back with the force. She should have anticipated, was right with the beat. Furthermore, he is still dancing his body in full contact with hers, hand in the small of her back, nose in the crook of her neck. Forcing her to dance too, or snog, if things keep going.

“God! I missed you Jim.” suddenly he straights and look to her eyes.

“I never said that thing.” He is still upset with that transmission he didn’t did. Putting both hands in his chest she says “Oh, I know. Too needy for your taste. We just need to talk a little, don’t you think?” Jim raises his both hands from her in surrender. “And can you please change the song?” Molly rubs her temple with the heel of her hand, and crossed her arms rubbing one of them.

“Ok, ok Molly mine. I will be a good host and we can discuss our new agreement.” From his pocket he pauses the music and she can hear the waves hitting on rocks. She didn’t know the house was so close to the sea, but was built in levels so could well be the back of the house and another terrace, maybe.

“Once you’re the guest and the one who made the invitation run away, you may start saying why are you here and what you bring to my table.”

“What? Seb leaved? Oh Jim, I’m sorry bring you trouble. I never meant to.” He leans in the arm of the large too white bench.

“While I manage to stay alive he will ever go back. Sooo, do go on. Enlighten me.” Molly tighten her mouth and looked to the floor.

“I get tired-” He raised a hand, interrupting.

“I deny myself in consulting you. Molly Hooper. Let me guess” Jim was bored, with his hand he made a generic round wave in the air. He mimicked her voice, but in a robotic manner. “I get tired, of everything, I couldn’t stand it anymore. Pretty, pretty, please, can you make all them disappear Jim? Really Molls? I didn’t think you were so obvious.” She uncrossed her arms surprised now.

“What? No. I already disappeared. I don’t need you.” That made Moriarty grim, he shook his head slowly, really amused.

“Still here you are.” Molly reddened slowly like a cartoon, gradually up and up and then displays her dimples to him. He is being a good host today, yes sir. “Firstly let’s have you full and alcoholized.” He reaches the back of the couch/bench and fetches a fancy red bag.

“Dress this, we are going out.”

“Ok, then.” still shy, Molly catches the bag and turn back to change in bedroom, without look to him she says.

“Eurus sends her love.” Jim Moriarty blanched. This was not what he thought.

 

(...)

 

“Sherlock!” John got to shouts, his friend must be in his mind palace.

“Sher-LOCK! I will shout he until the neighborhoods make a complaint about Molly.” to that he hears the dragged footsteps. The beaten detective opens and heads to the kitchen, pours himself a glass of water and leans in that same bloody countertop, looks through the window with his head down, arms crossed.  

Many people have seen the bored detective and is quite similar to what John faces today. When outing, the hawk is eager and more displeased to everything. He craves for the next hint of adventure maybe fearing himself for what he will do if the hint didn't come. When in home he presents himself exactly how he is now loose clothes, poorly care for himself and aggravated manners. As if his on rhythm is out of beat, like he was holding down his own outburst. A pleading to the universe to bring anything that prevents him from being the next criminal mastermind.

John sees him fidgeting. “I should have brought the violin.” His friend got self-conscious and wrapped in his own arms, stand with his back at him for the window. Sherlock is comfortable enough to be himself here. Not that facade of the unstoppable detective, but the emotional brilliant human being truly he is. “She will go back, you know that, don’t you Sherlock? With the given time.”

“What for?”

“You didn’t lost mate. Molly isn’t Irene, she didn’t beat you.” Sherlock turned around to look to his friend acknowledge.

“Uhm.”

“Stop that face Sherlock! She will go back! This is Molly she will always go back to you!”

“What for?” it's lower this time, he looks hopeless saying that, and leans in the countertop, supporting his elbows and ruffling his hair, then he takes deep breaths holding his nape with both hands.

John approaches enraged, because this is how he handles irrational Sherlock every time and states his diagnosis.

“You wanna know what for, I will say what for. She will go back because she loves you, she you go back to kick your ass for being a blooding moron for all these years and you will have to go down on her every day for the rest of your life to make up to such a nice girl wants you. God help her. Are we understand?” his suffering friend tilts his head and looks intently to his eyes.

“John, I will have to say to you once more” before that he blinks heavily and lets out a breath “love is a chemical defect found it on the losing side” to that his best friend pulls air to another angry outburst and Sherlock interrupts. “I’ve already lost it John, you didn’t paid attention to Eurus ‘a tragedy, so many the days unlived, so many the words unsaid’ remember? I simply can’t go back. I was the one who kept us both under the ‘just friends’ title.”

They both straighten now. They are analyzing the data that held Molly all these years and what could possibly have made her go away. “Molly is brilliant John, she survived Moriarty, Eurus, myself. She will thrive, be happy, what else can I wish for? Maybe even more now without a fake adult sociopath tied up to her neck.”

“God, Sherlock. That’s why you look like when Irene first died. You lose hope again.” John skirts the counter top.

“Well Sir, I didn’t lose hope in Molly coming back.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to oppose. “For my own reasons, Sherlock. I wouldn’t try to fake that I saw any of that coming”.

Clearly uncomfortable, John steadied himself and crossed his arms. Well, was only fair that the both of them opened their feelings, the deep and messy ones. He looked up right to his friend’s eyes.

“Do you remember when she gave you a letter on my house’s threshold?”

“Sixteen February of 2012 I ate a lolly for lunch.” John pursed his mouth to the sarcasm.

“Hold your tongue and listen to me. Mary told _you_ to save me but she was smart enough to never ask anything from Molly. She never had to. Despite of that, wasn’t for Molly, maybe I could never reach a state where I was able to save you.” Sherlock tried to assimilate the words, like a fish he closes and opens his mouth. Was still an inflamed wound, Mary and their separation. The widower continued deeper on that wound.

“Yes, she took care of Rosie, that you knew.” John pointed one finger to his chest, beating on every word “but I-needed-more.”

“No one ever asked her, I am not even a good friend of her, but she stayed with me. She took care of Rosie and looked after others when she couldn’t. I even knew it where Rosie was at the first days. And to be honest I didn’t bother because Molly was there for her.

Molly never annoyed me, and still… she made me eat. She medicated me when I needed to. I was drinking more than I ever saw my own sister drinking. But wait! The best is coming. Your lady has noiseless steps, don’t her? Or was I that drunk?

One day I was sit in my loo floor, drinking and she found me. She looked to me with one look, that one which I only have saw her give once and direct to _you_. And then, I looked to my other hand, that which wasn't holding the glass.” John looked to his on open hand now, like it held something little in the palm.

Sherlock was terrified, wide eyes swallowing hard. “Were pills, you were going to take your life while she was out.” John tightens his mouth in admission. Neither of both man needed the conclusion for that story they were both now rubbing their jaws in an understanding silence of what Molly made of her discovery.

Likewise, never was Sherlock’s habit to talk about Molly, it seems that John too was developing a friendship with her, maybe because of her nature any of their stories will ever end in John’s blog. Although this didn’t make them less important.

“I know that it was my fault that it had to be her and not you to take care of us mate. But, oh yes, she did it.” The tall man raised his nose in admiration to her resilience once more.

“I am sorry anyway John. But I'm also glad that you had her. She's better than me”.

“It’s not just me, am I? Have you been paying attention to Rosie?”

“She is more agitated than when she was teething the first time.”

“No Sherlock. I've seen her this exactly way before. The two days afterwards…” holding the easy tears back, John wipes his nose with the back of his hand and steps further. The certainty in John's words soothes him. There's no a shadow of doubt in them “She will go back, she will.”

 

(...)

 

Looking at the mirror Molly didn’t recognized herself. The dress has a beautiful fitting, displaying the curves of her body and still comfy. The viscose was dancing and caressing her in every move. Jim picked the dress for her, yes. But she could see that he cared for her in the length and the squared cleavage. It was an odd thing think in he was kind, he was just being coherent. By the way, he was a man able to pick the right outfit for any character and the occasion.

 _‘But black? seriously?’_ she hated every inch of the thing. Could be an invisible disguise: the bad guy’s girl. Molly made a sneer to the thought _‘indeed the perfect outfit’_ a little twirl, to check herself.

If, although this wasn’t the case, she was in character she would sway her hips in her way back to their table. The real care for her was made in the choice of the place for their fourth date. Looked like a family restaurant with a good designer in family. Rustic, not overcrowded nor desert. Neither intimidated her with wealthy, or exclusivity or nothing. When they arrived she saw he even denied ‘his table’ on the vip area that was too open and with view to the sea. Their actual table was in the corner were they near one plant wall, almost hiding they. But good enough to observe the others customers.

Of course he wouldn’t wait for her to begin his dessert, and she wouldn’t deny him the little pleasure to misbehave, so she pouts a little to him when she where sitting. Jim catches her expression and licks the dessert delighted. Before she eats her own she smothers her dress again.

“What I miss it? Why do you simply hate this dress Molly?” Molly relaxed her shoulders and bend her head back, looking to the wood ceiling, glad he just stated her annoyance.

“Black, James. I never wear black. I just have one dress that wear for the few burials I go for work. And still I use other colors pieces.” Jim covers his eyes with his hands and made a little, forced chuckle, like he could be able to be embarrassed.

“Oh my gosh Molls and I gave you that black box. You must have thrown it away. I am so sorry.” He is an adorable fluffy thing so she played along. Reaching for his hand she soothes him.

“Oh please don’t be Jim, I love the box you made it for me, it’s my little treasure. I like the color too, like your hair and eyes. Just bring me bad memories, so I don’t wear black.” The man glances her a mischievous knowing smile swinging his head. “Oh man, go ahead and ask it. Or you can explode” she couldn’t help but smile.

“Molly, Molly, Molly. What a bad girl you hide behind those kawaii eyes? You know what that box is. You do. I was informed that it was all over London last year. What have you made of the little present I gave you?” She panted her elbows on the table and started to eat her parfait. Looking to the other side of the room she sees a mum holding a toddler and eating her soup, such a blond kid.

“I always knew it was a pearl, we study nacre composition on uni, so I made a proper cleaner to maintain it, back then. I was always afraid that someone asked what it was or who gave me. And you Sir, you must have gave me exactly because of that!” She pointed to him with the spoon to what he opened his mouth.

“You don’t know the rest, listen.” She gave him the part of the parfait with run.  He was beyond content. Jim was grinning. “When Sherlock was in his exile I collected and tested your fingerprints, old fashion way to be spotless, so I knew how dangerous it was to have it. But when I read the first article of the Borgia’s pearl, I couldn’t hide it anymore. It looked beautiful with my photographs around. A shame that I couldn’t take care of it properly tough. I should not know what it was anyway.” The man was delighted wide eyes, mouth agape.

“No-way. You did not.” she gave a little smile and nodded proud.

“Oh yes I did it.” and she offered her flute to him. Psychopaths must have faster metabolism, it was maddening how he eats. He rests his jaw in his hand.

“And what do you keep inside?”

“Toby’s old collar, he liked you.”

“Oh yes, he found me very tasty.” Molly laughs surprised and brings a hand to her mouth.

“But I thought  he liked you!”

“After I plucked one hair of his mustache we developed a mutual fondness, yes.” Molly was tearing now, it was an odd memory her impossible beast liking at least one of her boyfriends.

“It was his kidneys, you know. It was so fast. He didn’t suffered. I would never let to. Apparently his food was treated with an agrotoxic that didn’t lead to nothing in generally, but in him led to slow poisoning and subsequent cancer. When spreaded to his bones I ended him it was raining and I never cried so much and I don’t have the faintest idea why am I tell you all of this. Ok, I will stop now.” Her laugh tears now we're down her cheeks despite of her nervous laughing. Now was his turn to reach her hand.

“His charming is worthy of the Moriarty’s Box.”

He was cradling her hand, eyes locked while the moment stretched. Molly wiped her face with the back of her hand and rub her eyes lightly to fix it her lens. Jim winden his eyes again.

“Now it’s final. I am the worst boyfriend ever.” He punches the table with a force that the others customers turns at their direction, he raises hands to the air “EVER”.

“I forgot you wore lenses.” While he beats his forehead in the table Molly rolled her eyes, _‘my densel is in distress, the horror’._ She taped his hair and removed both eye lenses and put it in his glass.

“Your punishment for that is to be my eyes for the rest of the evening. They were burning anyway. Are we even?”

 

Jim stopped and liked his lips, blinked to her. “My eyes could be yours anytime darling.” Time to game change.

“Let’s play a little game, just for fun. What do you say?” she shrugs and gives a shy dimpled smile. She was the perfect companion for him. Sharp as a new scalpel, sweet, polite, adorable, socially acceptable and with gore till the elbows half of the day.

“I think is...”

“Amazing! You're gonna looove this. The name of the game is…” He make a gest like he was reading a high street sign “Please Kill. I will be the client and you will be the criminal mastermind. I will say who I want dead and you have to say how you’re gonna do it.”

“This isn't fair, you are a professional.” he took a sip of her water.

“I like new creative views then and then. Besides, YOU are the real professional here, you are the one dealing with deaths _full_ time. I’m in conspiracy business, death is just a passion of mine.” He clapped his hands.

“Ok, waits! What is my prize?” She gives up, and straighten to begin.

Jim reclines to his chair, smothers his shirt under the jacket teasing and singing his voice for her, “if you satisfy me, tomorrow I will bring you to a place where you can choose any knife you want.”

“Ok then, I’m ready.”

“Let’s pick something easy, to warm you up. _Oh_! this one I saw when we sat here. Please kill… the waiter of the viop area.”

Molly looked affronted “You said I am a professional!” He almost drinks her lenses and she burst in laughter before held his forearm.

“Ok, ok. Quick then”, she glanced to the window were she could see the vip area and the tall waiter. He was in his late twenties, curled hair black clothes, white apron, silly smile. then she analysis him as a body of hers. It's an old technique that impressed even Sherlock many times. He is alcoholic but he didn’t know yet, former dancer, a broken ankle stopped his career, light palatine fissure. Compulsive romantic, the poor one. “I will kill him in the back alley of his favorite dance club, would disguise as a sexy partner and beat him till death, one right merciful blow , others to make look like a passional murder, for the  deliver I would hire someone with by same high as some of his currents partners."

“Quite obvious this one, but i like that you covered your people. Let's pick something more changeling you passed like five levels one time. Let's see, oh that's good… Please kill…that posh lady with the jewels”.

The  woman in question was in a pencil skirt and silk blouse, her hair done like an sixties hollywood star,  so much vain to nothing, she wasn’t coming from work, no wallet, no suitcase. She was a housewife, quite easy to kill her for her exposed sin “false robbery, gunshot to the head after leaving the mall parking. I would grab her jewels just for the show.”

“You girl are on fire! Let's see how you handle emotions… Please kill…my own guard that one eating alone observing us from the glass front vitrine”

“ARRRGHS, Jim this is no fun!  I will send it two men, after we leave here the first would just right miss a shoot in my head and the second would jump to us and kill your guard with a knife, he would be ended as a hero and his family would be always grateful that he worked for you, happy ending! It's no fun to play like that!”

“Ok then bad girl, Please kill… that baby?” Molly pursed her lips and hold a breath. That's was exactly the reason she took care of Rosie so closely, who would be taking care of her today?

“Switched medicine next time he goes to ER, all babies goes to ER”

“Please kill…that politician with the whore?”

“Same as baby, but instead of paracetamol it's funny to switch his viagra”

They were both arms crossed to the table and Molly was really bored.

“Please kill…”

“Stops jim, you proved your point! Yes, I know how to kill people, this is an interview or something?

“That old lady that came with her nurse?”

“Natural causes.”

“Wha, what ?” Molly spoke shyly and softly, “she came with the nurse but there aren’t friends, she doesn’t have a daily nurse, it’s earlier alzheimer nothing else.”  Jim pauses, the others rounds was quite obvious but now is her domain, something that she has more knowledge than him. “I would switch her medicine too, but not the antidepressants, or the ones to chronic diseases, just  for the one for memory not to poison, just lowering the dosage.

During the day she would eat, what she can not, and slowly her taxes would become critical, it’s no ones fault a tragedy really, her sons are so important people, they couldn’t take care of her. Death in one year.” the cruelty and elegance made Moriarty smile.

“Please Molly, please kill me?” _This bastard was serious_? After she saved him? He wanted to play, she would play him. Molly mimicked his expressions talking while tilted her head and changing rhythm, if he wanted a consulting criminal she would give it to him.

“You are special, you deserve something good. You must see your death coming for all that you done. You even want it, I couldn’t deny that to you. Not to you, not this time.

I'll do it myself. I will kill you strangulated in that white couch by sunset, straddling you and whispering that you will not be bored. Felling you hard and excited, bring you back to life about two times, until you trust me enough to I made it really quickly.

I want look too your eyes while _you_ let your life slide between _my_ fingers, while the white in your eyes is replaced by red, and you will let behind all the games for the one that's worth to play. You will be found without ties marks or signs of struggle.” The man has stopped completely, was looking for her up and down, swallowing hard. Wasn’t polite to make a face like that in a family restaurant, he even adjusted his pants.

“This is impossible.”

“I’ve seen it before” to that he just raised his arm to the waiter calling the bill without leave her eyes. She laughed nervously. “Oh yes, I am taking my missus home right now, yes I am.” and he cleaned his throat.

Ok then, she will have her fun, after a good deserved shag she would plan a way out of this. Waay to easy to play with him. Just another psycho who want to conquer the world and play with death. No news, no fun.

 

(...)

 

“Martha, hello, It’s Molly.”

“Dear, how are you? What a mess you left here. The guys are going crazy after you. You shouldn't do that to them. It's been a week.”

“About that- well.. they like to play a lot, don’t they?” Molly chuckles a little with no fun. It’s really a bad cruel joke with herself, with was made of her heart during the call that changed everything. “I am really fine Martha. You shouldn't be worry with me.”

“Oh, I don’t, if you are with who they say you are I know very well the reason.”

“Mrs. Hudson!” they both laugh and Molly leans on the glass balcony of a presidential suite, tying her nightgown more firmly. “Sorry about the odd hour, I know you wake to drink water seven hours after your soother.”

“To be honest, I’m relieved. It’s really lovely you had thought in calling me Dear. We lost you or are you going back at some point?”

“You see Martha... I am calling exactly because of that. I want an advice.”

“Are you sure is it right dear?”

“I had a meeting with an entrepreneur today, a kind of a visionary. This man, he wants to launch an international franchise in funeral services, the difference is the high profile customers. I was invited to be his CTO, as the most successful and charming person of the field, his words. Scientifically speaking, of course.”

“Oh my God darling! This is great. Who would believe that the deads lead you to that?”

“Yeah, it will be great. I still will be able to conduct my research and will have more autonomy in work and everything. Oh! And death never stops so I will get rich pretty fast too...” she gave a nervous laughing.

“You would have to leave London, don’t you my dear?”

“England, entirely. I will have had to give up all my life, of course I would love the new one. It’s just-” Molly looked back, in the bed Jim was still sleeping, ass to the air. Miss Hudson interrupted her.

“I would do it everything again.”

“Wha- what?”

“You heard me very well Miss. If I turned back then, I would do everything the same and have even better this time.” Molly holds the phone and signed heavily by the other side of the world. Her friend keeps going. “I would dance even more, strip and have more fun, date the most dangerous and gorgeous man I find and once more I would say yes to the one that made me see stars. And when he had asked me If I was willing to do his job, hell if I would not once more.”

“Why Martha? You are a good person. Why you say these things? You should be saying to me go back to London to be a good girl.”

“Oh dear, you can’t live with scraps all the time can you? I never was able to betray myself. I ended in court because some of that but hell I was good at it. And how I felt alive. Give yourself a little of that, please Molly.”

“I will think Martha, thank you.”

“Don’t be silly, I always loved you my dear. But there isn’t a problem in calling me?”

“He says that no from his phone. Can you please say to Sherlock that I am fine? Not that this will stop him.”

“Of course. Don’t do nothing that I would not ok?”

“I love you too. Seeya.” Molly made the second call for the evening.

“Seb?”

 

In the living room of a cottage in the country, Mrs. Hudson end her call and stare at her former tenants.

“Excellent job Mrs. Hudson, I estimate 2 minutes to Mycroft discovers who this entrepreneur is.” And Sherlock kisses her forehead and leaves.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming closer to the end. Next time things will be untied pretty quickly, I promisse.


	5. The damsel's rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly is rescued by her savior. Herself. Once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may think that I am Moffat with an AO3 account, to prove you wrong I am making this a series just to put the stories about two plot holes well established on this story:  
> 1- Eurus disguise and meets Molly on a shopping day  
> 2- Molly sex ~~holiday~~ , sorry ~~kidnaping~~ , vacation with her criminal ex-boyfriend  
> I am terrible at endings, so I am trying to tie up all together better way I can. Can you believe that I am beating my word goal every day? so this chapter took so long to came out because I edited so much. I cut entire scenes and made tough decisions. Life were never easy for these people... This would be THE END but it happened too much things you know? So I let one thing or two and a time foresse to the final one.

_‘God I wish I still could see Mary, what she would say to that?’_  Was all that John could think now looking to his living room. Now, he simply didn’t know what was this. An utter and complete mess. Must have been hundreds of notes on the walls, pictures of locations were Molly could have stayed in the past week. And apparently now he was composing without his instrument. At least kept his promise in not use the knives to stab the evidence. Terrible habit idea if the wanted cohabitate with a toddler.

Sherlock was taking a nap in the couch with the map of some city covering his face and torso. Must be succumbed to his body needs while analyzing the thing. It was strange, since John have saw him taking a nap only yesterday.

John signs in resignation to the state of his house and starts to enter while tidying up a bit. He catches a mug and the map that was covering Sherlock to discover Rosie carefully cuddled between his friend and the couch. John couldn’t contain a smirk. These two were a good team. Sherlock was very responsible to Rosie, wasn’t easy for he to change for anyone even so, John could see how easily the posh detective indulge to a simpler normal life for Rosie in ways himself alone was never able to do.

The doctor perceived that his friend breaths were less deep, increasing the rhythm. It has been a tough week for him.

“I know you didn’t sleep but don’t move or you gonna wake her.” Sherlock didn’t open his eyes.

“I don’t need your compassion John. Yes, I slept, your daughter is a witch.” The proud father gave a little smile to that and proceeds to the kitchen.

“To make you sleep _and_ be still? Yeah the best in the world. So where are the charts from yesterday?”

“Crossing the data from the targets activities with the key words from Molly scientific production didn’t reveal any consistent connection...”

“Exactly what Mycroft have said from the beginning...” Sherlock adjusted Rosie to his chest with one hand and growled to resume.

“All my work came to the conclusion that these twelve names Mycroft gave may have done one thing or another however nothing worth Moriarty’s exquisite design.”

The doctor was in the kitchen then, and the three of then remained quiet. Almost two weeks have gone since Sherrinford and Molly disappearance. Sherlock should have been destroyed, completely beaten. It was too much for anyone, even for him. They testified Eurus murder several people, while Sherlock was tortured she unraveled his forgot traumatized past. John himself was the one to find Victor’s bones in the end of that well. The Holmes had a lot to catch up. And yet how could they?

Molly was collateral damage, unclosed business. The deaths were already buried, Eurus was secured once more, all the damage contained. Mycroft and Sherlock were resolute in tell their parents that Eurus was alive, to establish the connection she didn’t have and that could have prevented all of this. Nevertheless, while Moly wasn’t found they were still trapped in Sherrinford nightmare.

“She can sense your mind palace and climbs in you, you’re warm and a cuddler.” Sherlock smooths Rosie’s hair with his eyes adrift.

“Ah, that’s why I never knew when she popped up.” in others times he would respond with a brattiness, anything. Today he just rose to put his goddaughter in her bedroom. In the way, he stopped. Mouth in a tightline, eyes down to floor. The fear and dread were threatening to swallow him. When he talked was almost inaudible, stuttering.

“Do you still think- still... even...” John couldn’t stand him insecure. He puts a hand in Sherlock’s shoulder and tells him firmly.

“She will go back, she will.”

John was losing his firmness in reassure his friend, their holes where reversed from not so long ago when they flew to Morocco to pick Mary and even though Molly not be a Bond Girl, the time of two weeks she gave to Mycroft to go back was ending and her untraceable phone call to Mrs. Hudson was the only clue they have. Despite off his inability to process his own emotion the detective was way too smart to see John’s grieving coming back for what was happening. Or for what they didn’t know were happening.

“Oh God Molly, come back.” was a recent habit to talk alone, since his illusory wife have disappeared. He signed and placed his hands on the hips. From somewhere in the mess that was his table John hears the bass sound off Sherlock’s phone and he picks up before it hangs. It was Mycroft.

“No Mycroft, I will stay with Rosie, you and Sherlock go. Bye. ”

Cases have the most unbelievable twists happening all the time. The most implausible ones were difficult to put in his blog. Lot of his work as a storyteller was to put together logically the chaos that was presented to him.  John goes to the bedroom in large steps and point an accusing finger.

“I told you.” the tall man’s mouth dropped but quickly he straightened gaining probably half foot of his height back again.

“Mycroft found her?” John was smiling in earnest now.

“Yes and no” the detective blinked and scanned the other man.

“He said that yesterday she gained her way back London from the Netherlands's embassy. An operation was put to take her from the airplane.”

“She isn’t alone or this wouldn't be necessary. Who is with her?”

“Mycroft didn’t get into this details, he just says this bloke should be death, like you.” Sherlock rushed to the door and his friend held him by the elbow. Patiently John pointed to the mirror. Adding with just a sweatshirt anyone of his homeless network could easily recognize Shezza.

“Last time Molly saw you like that, you didn’t like it.” John gave his phone and his friend began to type furiously heading to the loo.

(...)

Mycroft could see his brother looking in the direction of the right plane, he was right in tell him about her location only today. There was nothing to be done, theirs case prove itself useless once she returns home by herself in conventional ways. Well, almost. He approaches Sherlock and offers a brown envelope.

“Why didn’t you send me her pictures?”

“I am containing family quarrels, as you can see, this is indeed Sebastian Moran and his school friend the enterprise emperor Wan Wuying and Dr. Hooper dining in Andre’s, Singapore.” Sherlock was far better than the previous week, Mycroft was beyond preoccupied that came back to find him lost to drugs once more.

“Look like she and Moran have a longtime acquaintance, friendship. By her open posture she seems at easy with him. And still. ”

“He doesn’t trust her, no. Not a little, brother mine. The future duke, former sniper, Moriarty’s ex-boyfriend, millionaire, six feet high is pissing his pants because of our Molly.”

“So, he is clever.” the taller man turns to face the other.

“Think Sherlock. Why on earth Sebastian would need Molly?”

“Don’t we all need her?” Mycroft rolled his eyes. Clearly his brother couldn’t be able to see the entire situation. While this matter stayed in the family he has been able to control the damage but now he need to give awareness of the increasingly rage area with Moran addition to the equation.

“You need to understand Sherlock. I will take they both to questioning. You will have to make my nephews in other time.” His little brother is surprised.

“Rubbish!” Mycroft rolled his umbrella in his wrist.

“Off course you remember uncle Rudy, a fearsome man. Like few, he knew how to impose himself,” in doubt the detective tilts his head, this conversation was leading to a strange path, “but do you recall the people uncle Rudy feared? I will simplify for you. What it means the name Harvey Hamilton?” Sherlock widen his eyes in understanding but Mycroft goes further to put some restrain in their next steps.

“Sebastian Harvey Hamilton Moran, the second if you must, is being brought back home safe from the deaths by the capable hands of our pretty little Molly. Probably she will be forever remembered by Hamilton like a holy savior and I could never lay my claws on his son, or he will recommend my removal from office to the board.” Sherlock swallowed a lump in his throat. He always new that the best way to cover a mess was to cause another one even bigger. Could have Molly know what she was messing to?

In the tarmac they saw that the passengers were already leaving the plane. Among them, a couple of a too tall men and a petty woman with a plaid coat turned briefly to them. The both began to walk. Mycroft made a forced smile to his brother and smooths a raised eyebrow with all the disdain he had.

“Remember me again, please, how do you found Sebastian death in São Paulo?”

“October 2012, he was in a fire in a car chopping. I get in the building still in fathoms to find a carbonized body with his description and teeth type desperately bonded in Joana, his L96A1 rifle. So I called you and flew to Columbia by the morning.”

“Isn’t Joana a finding that any men in a car chopping ever dreamed off Sherlock?”

“So you didn’t want to bother your boss by making a fuss in the airport, because of what really?”

“Well done brother dear, try to hide your mistake in my, almost nonexistent, superior hierarchy. Thank God she is well.” For a second Mycroft was like in Sherrinford, by the sight of Molly he rubbed his temper and hold the second button of his vest. They had a longtime acquaintance, his words, she was a useful asset, the very best in her field, she and John were the both that eased Sherlock's burden in his life. No one could never blame some sentiment that the elder Holmes held for the woman.

Sebastian was the first to notice then, Molly was with just one small suitcase when he tapped her shoulder and pointed to the Holmes. “They are here” was read by the man’s lips. Sherlock came in long steps and Molly turned her head so fast that her hair came to across her neck like a scarf. She gave a broad smile to him and gave the case for her companion hold.

Sherlock was completely disarmed by that smile, he slow down and accessed her. Plaid red and gray wool coat, yellow dress. She was sleeping and eating well, wearing just a little of makeup, maybe just gloss and blush. She seemed, happy? the overly impression confused him till no end. Molly was the picture of a good vacation while he has been through hell handmade by her. Mycroft surpassed him and began in his own fashion.

“Welcome home Sebastian. To what the England own the honor of your presence?” Seb gave a back hug to Molly crossing both arms on her shoulders and smiling, but Molly tensed instantly signing for the unwanted intimacy.

“You can lay your thanks to my best friend in the entire world.” He gave a kiss in her head and she was blushing furiously, facing everywhere but neither of man’s eyes and tapping for his arms release her. He was very charming with a confidence that belong to the few that never had none wish denied. Molly tried to look back to him and said.

“I thought you were crossed to me Seb, because I declined your proposal.” Sherlock chuckles and seems momentarily mortified.

“He proposed?” Molly gave the _‘watch yourself”_ look and the detective compose himself again.

“Sherlock Holmes, a pleasure. Finally we’ve been formerly introduce.” The both shake hands while Sebastian still holds Molly. “Where is that friend of yours with the fashionable accessories? The short one?”

“You must be referring John Watson, but it’s being a long time since he didn’t use the cane. You knew him since Afghanistan then?” the sniper bites his lip in amusement.

“Oh no, just by name in the time, but I was talking about the bomb vest, the khaki one, fabulous.” Molly rolled her eyes but the both Holmes where quite tense. Even with the story on the blog, only the involved ones knew about that detail. Moran was having the best of the times in public. Molly tapped on his forearm and was promptly released, she maintains her ridiculous petit frame protectively between the Holmes and Moran.

“Live him alone Seb, that was ages ago.” Sebastian gave a devious smile to Sherlock and looked him up and down. No detective would come pick a pathologist in the airport after a fortnight away at least if she was _his_ pathologist. Even if bring along one of the Queen’s knights. Was quite easy to play with them and way too funny. He grabbed the woman by the shoulders turning her in her heels and he held her face with both hands. While displaying his one million dollars smile, he began to make references to the mystery trip of them.

“Ah, Molly, you promise me you will think a little more? Just picture what the both of us could accomplish _: an end to end death business_. That sounds like the last job you will ever want, don’t?”

“Rather lovely dear. Now let me go. I know you already saw your daddy coming. Chop-chop.” The man’s face dropped. He grabbed her hand and they face the glass doors. To steady him for what was coming Molly squeezes his hand more firmly.  Although his face doesn’t give a thing, Mycroft spun on his heels.

Mr. Hamilton looked like on his, well taken care of, sixties. His large steps go even further than his influence, no one in the airport would ever doubt that his target was the group of the tree tall men and the colorful woman, and they weren’t comfortable to be under his attention. He was wearing a double breast trench coat that give in under it just the golden luxury silk tie. Despite of the posh portrait clearly assembled by experts, no cosmetic or surgical works were apparent except the hair that was painted. Mycroft was the first to access him.

“May I know since when do you know your son is alive Mr. Hamilton?” the other men had the lowest of the voices, aged by opulence and paced with blue blood.

“Because you catch me in the best of the moods, you may, in day before yesterday Dr. Hooper called me for help which I promptly give, of course.” Mycroft raises his eyebrows in doubt, so the older man continued. “yes she has my personal number since she held the secret that wasn’t _you_ son on that fire.” The man took a pause to invade Mycroft personal space “I always knew you were no more than a prat with a huge brain, you made it well in send the news of my son’s death trough this angel.” The father took a deep ragged breath; his eyes were beginning to wet.

“Mr. Holmes I will explain myself just this time only. The best way I’ve got to get my son back was her. The only other person who survived _him,_ and for nothing in the world I would ruin my chances by involving a Holmes.” the last world outs like a curse.

Molly is too little towered between the four men, she drops Sebastian hand to hold his father elbow, when the man looks down to access her. She acknowledges his pain, his grieve, but also his wounded pride. His greatest shame was his son and here he was, getting him back at last. Nevertheless, testified by his pair. Like the understanding woman she was, she just presses his muscles and tilts her head before diverge his attention.

“Harvey, Mycroft is a long date friend of mine. He didn’t know you would be here.” Mr. Moran takes her hand gave it a little kiss in admiration, before place it secure by his arm.

“Cleary not my dear, you would never do that.”

“Harvey, this is Sherlock Holmes.” The men nodded and Molly continues “you see, I do leave on official notice in work and tell Mycroft my first destination. The timing for my leaving was the worst imaginable tough. To the Holmes siblings at least. ”

“You're a free woman, you are nothing to these men, are you saying that they are here not because of Sebastian but to harass you?” In Harvey’s words was clear that threatens her was an equal offence like his own flesh. His son gave a crooked smile to the detective, the only piece that wasn't fit in this equation.

“Nothing indeed, father.”

“The three of us are leaving now to dinner in Sebastian favorite country house.” Mycroft hit the floor with the tip of his umbrella, between his eyebrows a single thin line of anger was formed and Sherlock could hear his brother hand gripping and twisting the umbrella handle.

“Negative Mr. Hamilton, they need to clarify their departure and furthermore the reason for their coming back.” Molly couldn’t help herself she widens her eyes and pointed to the old man that have her hand to Sherlock and gave a knowing smile to him. It was an old form of communication for them. The detective translated her look to ‘ _oh my, look what he can do with our Myc’_ and Sherlock couldn’t help but lifts the corner of his mouth before he could look away. Mr. Hamilton began to talk more playfully.

“And I can assure Mr. Holmes, that they will in a convenient time.” with that the man carried Molly by his arm and all the five of them begin to live the hall. Molly talked with her timid voice.

“The better time would be right now, thank you Harvey, you’re lovely defending me.” It was clear that this surprised the older man, he looked to her face and tries to slow the pace to the front entrance. Molly didn’t let it. He chooks his head and tries to divert.

“That’s an absurd my dear. You two just came from an exhaustive journey you would be better settled in my country house while we can discuss the arrangements for a better life to Sebastian.”

“We can still do that tomorrow. So don’t let the shadows of his past haunt him, neither of us.” They arrived at the entrance where a black van immediately parked and opens the door for they. “It happens that I know the best place to raise the deaths.” She enters the van followed by the former sniper. Looked like, while she stands above his father, he would follow her till hell.

“Oh dad, if I knew she was this funny I would get back way sooner.” He made a wink and closed the van door.

(...)

 

He would never made apparent, but Mycroft is uncomfortable to bring this to his house, wouldn't be if was just Molly, along with Moran and Moran the former placed in his gray office while their respective employees (agents, secretaries, lawyers about 8 people with phones and laptops on full work) where set at the mahogany dinner table and John accompanied by his daughter were in a guest room. A full house, dreadful thing. Like always, Molly was right. This was an endless fragile situation and been so, it would be cared and documented here.

He brought a tea tray to his office where Sherlock was pacing back and forth in front of the young Queen portrait behind the table, in front of it were Molly sit at right and the Moran's to the left.

The older Moran talks as soon Mycroft enters the room, waving his hand and without turn to him, like Mycroft was his maid.

“May I know why is he here?”

“I could ask the same.” Without theirs coats, Moran looked much more like Sherlock’s father in manners and clothes, both pristine, than Seb, theirs side matched the room. A cold calculated scale of grays to black, broken only by Sherlock’s eyes and Moran’s tie. They both breathes and live that order, craved for find the rules that equate the chaos.

By the table Mycroft scratches his eyebrow before begin, and decides to be silent for a moment.  So he takes the Moriarty’s box from the drawer and place it on the middle of the table to observe the dynamics of this formidable set of people that he has on his office today.

The real Moran’s son was wearing jeans and a too tight to be straight black shirt with the two first buttons open. He still wears military hair and a fashionable sunglass.

This side of the table looked like the embrace the chaos side. The boy who born with a silver spoon in his mouth and pursued to be a hitman along with the brightest mortician of the free world. Molly was in her usual fashion, her yellow simple cut dress had a pattern of laboratory instruments, she watched the exchange between Sherlock and Mr. Moran mortified, her eyebrows furrowed. Sebastian had five petit fours in one hand that he eats while smile to the scene before him. He made occasional nods to Molly. Seems like he finally had accepted Molly as his ally once she was the only who could handle such a difficult man.

“I am here for a case. This” the detective pointed to the black box “was found in Molly’s flat, I am in this case since last year. Even you could probably be able say what is part of _that_.” The older man fetches his glasses in his jacket and stand to catch the box. In recognition he swallows and so slightly raise a single eyebrow.

“It can be” he looks to Molly who replies “Oh, but it is” and sips her tea.

“How can be possible that you had the Black Pearl of the Borgias Molly?” Seb raises his hand excited, but he has a mouthful. So he asks for a sec with his finger to what the Holmes rolled their eyes and adjusted on theirs sits. The former Moran sits again while his son sips his tea to clean his throat and resumes.

“Oh, I _love_ this box. Boss made it. At first wasn’t intended to be a present for you” he point Molly with his head. But then he got deep on the history of the jewel. May I?” Sebastian pointed the box asking to Mycroft, who nods his consent.

“Like I said...” Sebastian raises to grab the box and immediately opens and closes before Molly can give a look inside “further he researched emerged dozens of stories of betrayal, and robbery but all that for the strongest  impossible loves. None of them fully realized. So he switched the deal to the jewel for a murder and made the box and even covered with this polish that preserved his fingertips. All black, he said, to contrast with the light of the angel he would maculate with this evidence.”

“Indeed, this box made her once _‘friends’_ chase her like a criminal.” Mr. Moran sneers to Mycroft and Sherlock.

“Harvey, they were doing their jobs. They are rather good at it, you know? Besides, I should have get rid of it.” Sherlock turned to her with curiosity.

“Why didn’t you?” Molly drops her head and sighs remembering.

“I think, in the beginning was because the way I get it” her eyes closed heavily “December 25 on 2010” Sherlock’s face was completely disarmed, the night she gave him the best present someone could have given to him, when he couldn’t worth less, she also received a priceless trap. He couldn’t help but think that if her plans for the baker street Christmas party had succeed, everything would be so different...

She resumes to clarify to the other men the best way she could. “I am sorry, at that night, Mycroft called me to have a situation sorted out in Bart’s” she cleans her throat and Seb interrupts.

“When she got home I greeted her, we drunk, we talked and we laughed of the ridiculous man we loved. I only leaved the box without any card or note after she slept. After that, you may have thought it was more like my present than his.” Molly opens the box and gives a sad crooked smile before remove an old faded teal cat collar. She puts the collar on her wrist and places the box back to the table.

“I never get to say thank you Seb, you were good that night.” Mycroft puts his crossed hands under his chin and look intently to Mr. Moran.

“You see now why I have to pursue a full investigation on this.” Under his father sight Seb reaches for Molly’s hand and kisses her knuckles.

“This would not do, and you know it.” The man was now losing his temper, with a raised finger in warner to Mycroft.

“Oh please, England will survive without the Moran’s house, just give him.” Sebastian mouth dropped and he lowers his sunglass looking very keen to the older Holmes, on the other hand his father punches the table and he and Mycroft stared still for each other.

“There is an alternative.” Sherlock enunciates every syllable, to calm the senses.

“Is rather simple, just raise Molly’s level of trust.” To that Harvey seem to calm, and straights his vest. Molly tilts her head.

“I don’t understand Sherlock” she furrows her eyebrow “trust levels?” the detective clarifies.

“Yes, I had some high trust levels, which allowed my work without being bothered, in some ways at least, while I was dead. Different people has different trust levels to Mycroft, he keeps all filled.” She gets it, of course, but still have questions.

“Where could this information about every person who mattered be stored?” Behind the table Mycroft just tap to his temper. “Oh, I don’t even know why I asked.” Mr. Moran was satisfied, he puts his hands on his back and talked to Mycroft.

“It’s deal then. Do it.”

“Is not that simple.” He looked to Molly. “I shouldn't let this information get out of here, but I think I own you Miss Hooper, at least this. You already reached the highest trust level possible. You held up to five times more secrets than he.” he points to little brother “It’s been this way for a long time even before Sherlock’s death. And you see, I send it him to die in exile once. It’s beyond my hands.”

The older Moran raised his voice. “But not for mine.” Mycroft gasped to talk, just to be interrupted.

“Oh, shut up! This is coming since Rudolph, and for the record, if was just for my word _she_ would be on _your chair_ tomorrow. She proved herself capable enough not only for today. I do read your reports. Tomorrow I will indicate her name to a position with the board.”

“This is an acceptable outcome Dr. Hooper?” she had the widest of the eyes and was red till ears with what they were talking about her. She tilted her head and gave a dimpled, shy smile.

“I guess…” Sebastian clapped his hands.

“Great! To the country home now! I was thinking that we will have to get married, but now I know you will be my new mommy.” Sebastian raised as does his father, he gave his hand to Mycroft shake “You” while holding his hand Seb gave a crooked smile and puts his sunglasses to look too him “I always knew you were the fun one.”

The former Mr. Moran looked back since Molly was still sited.

“My dear? Are we ready?”

“Oh Harvey, my job here isn't done. I will visit you by Friday. Seb, or you can come to my place anytime. I have matters to discuss with Mycroft.” Sherlock raises his chin mocking the Moran's and Molly resumes. “Only Mycroft, Sherlock.” The older brother lowers his head and lifts the side of his mouth away from the Moran’s.

They began to leave. Sherlock stands, straits his trousers and jacket. By the door he gained courage.

“I - I want to talk Molly.” She turns back in her chair to look to him.

“I know, I run away because of that.” His eyes softens but sads too.

“You came back. ”

“I do. You will stay here?” He nodded with his mouth tight. “Would you wait for me then? You could bring me home.”

“It’s all I want.”

“Ok then.” She turned back to Mycroft who just nods to his brother that closes the door.

“So, Mycroft, please begin the questioning.”

“Hence you're soon to be my college, the only one, no less, I have just one question, no more than that.” Placid, he crossed his fingers in lap and lay in the back of the chair. Molly had pick up her chair and was sit in front of him.

“What the fuck?” she reliefs although her she got her own head on the desk and braced it, giving a long growl. With her head still down she began.

“I help everyone, Mycroft. Every one. First Sherlock, then the Queen and you, Jim used me and my life swirls constantly with secrets and life threats, and grieve, sorrow and drugs again.” She looks to him. “Suddenly you came out with a sister.” she raises one hand “A sister Mycroft! and of course she thinks she has the given right play with me too, everyone does that, how can I blame her.” Mycroft sighs and rests his elbows on the table.

“I am sorry again Molly.” She adjusts in her chair and began to tidy up the cups in the tea tray.

“Please don’t be. I like her by the way.”

“What?”

“I like your sister, I can see what she could have be.” Mycroft’s mouth was agape, eyebrows high. He didn’t lose words still.

“You’re insane.”

“No, this world is for not be able to stand a female genius. I am very disappointed with the world. How is she?”

Mycroft retrieves from the last drawer the green cardigan that she gave to Eurus.

“She is mute, completely out of reach.” Molly tilted her head and gave a soft smile to him and takes her cardi back...

“She will be better Mycroft. She has you now. All of you.”

“You cannot now that. You don’t know her.”

“Ok then” She raised to put her cardi on, it was weightless, just to cover not to warm up. “Please note for request my surveillance cameras on October fifteen, not my house, on the street.”

Mycroft replies a “Noted”, and she resumes “Like I was saying,” she seats again closing the buttons “I had to gain some control back, or at least, some perspective. For that I must leave.”

“I can figure that Sebastian gave you a way out long time ago, when you two got acquaintance. I am not interested anymore in your escapade.” she was surprised, she would lay everything plain and simple here, so the things changed this much by the position Harvey offered her? This wasn't even settled yet.

“It will all be settled, I will personally assure that and furthermore, I am looking for a job that you master like no one else, and to be frank, I am hitting my on head on walls since the incident in Sherrinford to not have saw your talents before.” he skirts the table and sits beside Molly. This was business, yes but at what cost he was able to make this deduction.

“Before, short after Moriarty came out on that pool, we determined that you have no importance at all for him. This theory was confirmed when you weren’t threaten at Bart’s roof later.” his sight drifts to the Borgia’s Pearl still on the table.

“My sister did the same, she didn’t killed you. She had the tendency and the resources.” He reaches for the sleeve of Molly’s cardi, remembering that fit better Eurus. It was too big for Molly. She catches his hand.

“What are you saying Mycroft, I _do_ know how to die you know?” She snorted a little “Kind of my way of life.” She feels him squeezing her hand.

“Today you managed to make a negotiation work in an extremely difficult situation, were the outcome could be catastrophic. Two of greater egos I know were here, along with a hot-blooded killer and everyone was happy with the outcome by the end.”

“What -- I don’t -- I didn’t say nothing really” He looked to her hand instead of her eyes, giving her space to manage her shyness.

“But you cared Molly and you are the very best on this field. Do you know what that makes you?” She shook her head. He lifted his chin to announce “You are a mastermind whisperer.”

He gives a moment to the title settle in. They both look deep in each other’s eyes. They explode in guffaw together.

He holds his tummy and she picks a tear in the eye’s corner.

“My new badge will be awesome. By the way...”

“University will be good for you? Advanced classes weren’t available, so I matched you to anatomy. For the first year at least.”

“How do you...”

“Oh dearest, why do you even bother? Life changing events, settles one life's, better access for me etc, etc.” It was good to see him in his afetaded smile again the shell of ice turning back. He stands to lead her to the door and seeing her genuine smile he indulges an impulse.

“Unlike the average healthy professionals you decided not to fight against death. Why?” She stops by the door and just holds.

“All life end, all hearts are broken.”

He wasn’t expecting that, she used the same sentence that he use justify his lack of care for her profession passion, of course he was excellent hiding his shook.  “Shakespeare.”

“And still is in a death body that could life be better studied. Sometimes I can even make justice.”

“I can only imagine what could be said about a broken heart.” She looked back to him in warning. No. She wouldn’t talk about that. “By the way, I become engaged.”

He opens the door and they go to the main hall from which they could hear Sherlock and John. “Oh congratulations Mycroft! Do I know the lucky one?”

“By coincidence, she is here today.”  when they turn to the main hall he stretches one arm dramatically to the direction of the sound of a rattle.

Molly practically shouts in excitement and surprise. “Rosie! Oh my gosh! Come here Rosie!” The little toddler runs to her, her little arms raised. Everyone is smiling until Rosie talk.

“Mummy, mummy!” they two collide together and is a torrent of kisses.

The brothers say at the same time “Seventeen words.”

John sighs and return a sad smile to Molly. “Sooo, that was a bad day, was it?”

Molly nods to him.

She has wake up with Rosie that day. Since Molly had almost a daycare in her spare bedroom she slept with her sometimes. She didn’t have gave much of attention when Rosie was sleepy and called her mummy, but specifically on that day, when Molly was saying goodbye to her, the baby busted in tears screaming to her. And screaming mummy.

When Molly also began to cry, already on the street an old lady tried to comfort saying _‘my daughter always did the same at this age, is a sign of love’_. She only had calmed down half hour before the damned phone call.

While cradling Rosie’s head she began, “I am soo-” John cuts her.

“Oh buggers, just stop it ok.” He breathed in and places his hand on the hips. “She was certain that she would die already, it was maddening how much. This was probably what she meant to naming you as godmother.”

“Are you certain? Even after...”

John nods gravely. “Of course Molly. Why not? You aren’t even a killer.”

“If I am, none of you would ever know.”

Sherlock chuckles to that. “Mary would be so proud”.

“Oh John, thank you.” She crosses the room to meet him and they give an awkward hug with Rosie still clinged to her. Molly held him so tight that the man gasped.

An agent approaches and delivers each coat and Molly suitcase that Sherlock takes it and try to distract from the sentimental scene “Probably, she will sleep in the ride, we drop them by John’s and go to yours.”

“God woman! You are stronger than you look.” She looked for his eyes and hers were teary, she was very serious saying “Do you know I love you, don't you?”

“I love you too, your idiot come here.” He held her even tighter now. “Never leave us again” and gave a kiss on her cheek. They even sway a little. Mycroft catches Sherlock muttering to him a ‘ _how he did that?’_ and rolled his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time would be the talk about that I love you. I don't know when I will be, but I do want to keep working how I have been.


End file.
